


I lose.

by realtra



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Jamilton - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2019-02-06 14:20:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12819378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/realtra/pseuds/realtra
Summary: The one I where spent too much time bent over a thesaurus to actually work on the story itself.





	1. Introduction to; The life of a man with weed.

**Author's Note:**

> Huzzah. After almost a month, I've written the first chapter! Feedback would be highly appreciated, as this is my first work and there's always room for improvement. (Especially with my writing.) I'll try my hardest to keep a consistent schedule, but we all know I'm going to end up posting for a week then forgetting all about it. With all that said, enjoy!

-September 29th, 2017 11:57 PM-

 

 

     Midnight in the city; strident music reverberating off the concrete skyscrapers spiraling into the murky blue canvas above the city. White paint speckling the skies in clusters of constellations, all so intricately painted on that not one person alone could mimic their breathtaking delicacy.

     Alexander Hamilton was always too busy to look at the stars. Not once in his life has he stopped for a moment, taken a breath, and looked around him. Tonight bore no difference. He stumbled awkwardly down a darkened alley, fumbling with the zipper of his oversized bookbag. He yanked a small, plastic bag out of his backpack and spilled its contents all over the ground as he did so.

“Shit-!” He hissed, voice getting discontinued as he tripped over a pile of trash, falling against a dumpster with a sad thump. His head slammed against the grimy metal, a sharp and hot feeling rushing through his skull.

"Stupid fucking alleyways, fuck... Where are they...?" Alex grumbled, scrounging through his bag. He produced a lighter along with some papers in a small cardboard sleeve. A small shadow passed the alley, contorting the light and making it harder for him to see as he opened the little baggie of weed. Alex rolled some up into one of the papers, sighing and flicking the lighter on.

"Got any to go around?" A smooth, deep voice permeated through the silence of the alley, Alex snapping his head up in response. He couldn't see the person clearly right now, but he honestly didn't care.

"...I s'pose." He mumbled, voice slightly strained. Alex shuffled over, cringing slightly as his hand landed in something damp and sticky. The dark figure made its way closer, sitting next to him patiently. Alex held the flame up to the joint, lighting up and taking a hit.

"Fuck..." Alex sighed, exhaling the smoke into the air and letting the wind blow it away. It mingled with the painted sky, swirling as the colors seemed to collude with one another. Deep mauve amalgamated with hints of cobalt blue, and the frosty white of the stars.

     Alex held it out for the mystery person, peering at them in the dark. The only features he could make out was some extremely curly hair, and dark skin.

"Thanks." The voice spoke, grabbing the joint and taking an especially long drag. They sat in silence, only noise being the obnoxiously loud music of bars and the sound of traffic in the streets. Ah, the city.

"What's your name?" Alex asked after a while, glancing up at them. The person seemed to hesitate before passing the joint back to him.

"Thomas. You?" He spoke, watching Alex with a hint of fascination as he blew smoke into the air. The world was slowly starting to get hazier, and that was fine with the pair of them.

"Alexander. It's nice out tonight, isn't it?" Another small cloud of smoke swirled up into the night sky. Thomas nodded, tilting his head up to look at the stars.

"Everything's always nicer at night." They took turns passing the joint back and forth. Alex put it out, lazily resting his head on Thomas's shoulder. The music and traffic had long since gotten quieter, and they could finally relax.

"Why are you out here smoking weed in an alley, on a Friday nonetheless?" Thomas asked, talking slower than he had before. It sounded nice to Alex, and it held a slight southern bite. He simply shrugged, closing his tired eyes.

"I mean, there’s not really a specific reason… I’m just stressed out from college, I suppose…” He shifted, pulling his knees up to his chest and relaxing back.

“Well, you shouldn’t be out here… It’s not safe for either of us.” Thomas shifted,  
stretching. Alexander peeked up at him, cocking his head.

“Well I don’t have anywhere to go, so unless you have somewhere for us both to crash, I’ll be staying here or climbing in through the faulty library window and going to sleep under a bookshelf.” He crossed his arms stubbornly, looking to the side in discomfort. Thomas seemed surprised as he stood, taking a glimpse at Alex.

“Guess you’re coming to crash at my house, then.” He grinned lazily, extending his hand towards Alex, who reluctantly took it. Thomas quickly pulled him along, stepping out of the dark alley and popping into the nightlife scenery.


	2. The life of a man in a stranger's house.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex gets tugged to a house at the same time his heartstrings get tugged the fuck out of his chest.

      Flashing street lights beamed brightly overhead, bathing everything around them in everything from warm yellows and hot pinks, to electric blues and neon greens. Samples of music floated through the air, intermingling and contrasting with the harsh sounds of far-off bar fights and car horns honking. Alex gazed around in awe at everything as he was towed around, but nothing was as breathtaking as the person in front of him.

 

      Thomas Jefferson. He stood tall, 6’2” to be exact. The contrasting colors of the city lights bounced off his warm cocoa colored skin. The sleek black curls on his head bounced softly as he ran, a wide and toothy grin plastered across his face. He gazed back at Alex, sending a lightning bolt shooting down his spine, heart hammering in his chest. His eyes, deep brown blended with flecks of what could almost be called gold. His eyes, deep-set and cat-like, eyelids set heavy over the bloodshot scleras. His  _ eyes, _ lashes thick and sweeping. And his eyes were lingering on each of Alexander’s features, taking him in, straying farther and farther down as he admired everything on his body.

 

And by the time he had tore his gaze away, they were there. Standing tall and mighty in front of them, the most gorgeous house Alexander had ever seen. It obviously cost a fortune, and was framed with neatly kept violets. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter isn't done but I haven't uploaded anything for so long so I think I'm going to make short chapters like this and try my best to upload once a week? Obviously longer than this piece of shit though. Who knows? Writers block is an ass and I can only write poems right now.


End file.
